Page 56 of Shadowlands Omega

My father takes a step back and touches the center of his chest. He steps away from Lord Yaron and speaks to the crowd once again. “Then let this be enough.”

A pregnant pause. Lord Yaron nods and turns around to face Olac, who lowers his arm. The crowd seems to release a single gathered breath before falling silent once more.

“Are you satisfied?” Lord Yaron roars to the village, and then more quietly to Robert alone. “Are you satisfied? Do you think Gwyn would be happy seeing the Lady of the Shadowlands kicked through the streets or her Lord whipped like a dog?”

He takes the whip from Olac’s hand and tosses it at Robert’s feet. The boy bursts into tears and retreats to his parents. He’d looked like a man standing strong in his convictions. Now, with shaking hands, he looks so small. He meets my gaze across the square and looks away quickly.

Lord Yaron’s chest is heaving. His blood drains from his back and soaks his trousers, which are dark, but not dark enough to disguise the blood loss. There’s so much of it. I want to go to him, but I know it would not be welcome. He is raw, unbridled rage.

He sweeps his hand across his lower back, his palm coming back red. He holds it out to the village and all but roars as he says, “May this blood be enough to assure you that this family has paid their penance.” He swipes his hand across his chest. The red palm print streaks across his abdomen, making him look like a god not of this world, but a god above us. Or maybe that is simply how I always viewed him.

“Maymyblood ensure that they do not step out of line again. And may this tome of violence finally close.” He looks so huge, his body swollen with rage or pain or a combination of the two. His muscles glisten. The sun pokes its head through the clouds and brushes over his face before retreating in terror. “I should hope that you all remember the sound of the whip falling the next time you have your dealings with the Ubutu family.” He lingers in front of the baker and the pig farmer, who stand together. “And provide them with clean food. It is not your job to punish them.” He moves to Olac and concludes. “I am through here. Are you?”

“We understand, my Lord. The Ubutu family has paid their penance. I believe we all have.” Olac looks down at his feet, his expression pained. His hands are flexing — with his own pain, or with the pain we all feel looking at Lord Yaron. I wonder if he’ll ever forget what it felt like to flog the beloved Lord of our city.

Yaron sneers in disgust and turns away from the village. He starts towards my family. No, not them. He has eyes only for me and they are brutal slashes, everything about him untamed and scarier than my most vivid of nightmares and so utterly severe. I stand, surging away from my siblings and batting away Cyprus’s reaching hands. I walk towards Yaron, fingers clenched violently underneath my chin in prayer — prayers I’ve been making to the ancestors since the whip was first revealed.

We meet, coming within reach of one another, but his fists are clenched. He speaks low enough for me alone to hear — at least, he tries to, but I never hear what he says. I don’t stop walking and barrel straight into his chest.

A shocking puff of laughter leaves his lips as he canters back, clutching me to him — for balance or because he wants to, I’m not immediately sure. But then his hands form around my face and he moves my jaw so that I have to look up at him and his lips descend and he kisses me for everything I’m worth and I kiss him back with everything I’m worth and so much that I’m not.Deserving. I do not know what I deserve, because he makes me feel like I deserve…I deserve…to bask forever in his light.

He holds me beneath the bum, his large hand circling the underside of my thigh, his fingertips very close to the hole he tore in my pants earlier. His other hand slides around to grip the back of my neck. He clutches me to him like a lifeline, while my arms slide up his shoulders to carefully and lightly tug on the hairs at the nape of his neck.

His eyes close and the growl he releases is so beautiful. It’s all for me. I see him better now and know that he is dangerous because when he said that he would win me and I said he could not, he knew. He’s always two steps ahead. I might as well give him whatever he wants. To fight him is to lose. It’s just inevitable.

“Will you come with me or would you like to remain with your family?” he whispers and I feel immediately guilty.Does he really think I would not want to go with him after this?Or maybe, he just thinks I would never choose anyone over my family. And I…never thought I would.

“Do you want me to stay with you, my Lord?”

“I would not have asked if I did not.” He growls, “And don’t call me Lord, Kiandah.” Yaron is out of breath and his heart is pounding so hard I can feel it against my own breast. I try to disentangle myself from him, worry that I’m hurting him eclipsing my need to be close, but he only grips me tighter.

“Let me go to them, Yaron.”

Disappointment drags his shoulders down. A fleeting pain twists the expression on his face. “Of course. I will come find you after Okayo deems me fit to…” He starts to release me, but it’s my turn to grab him with the desperation of a drowning woman clinging to a flotation.

“No.” I shake my head, reach up, lightly brush my fingertips over the blood spatter on his cheek. “Not to leave you. Just to say bye to them and make sure they’re okay. Can you wait just a moment?”

He stares at my face, his eyes tracing its every curve. I would feel self-conscious if my body weren’t so warm and wanting. I feel arousal pool in my stomach and surge down, slickening my folds. Yaron grunts.

“I’ll only be a moment.”

“I don’t want to be parted from you for a moment,” he says, sounding strange. I’m worried and elated. He sounds so…soft.

I nod, tears wetting my eyes, desire, desire, desire beating me like a whip against flesh, only so much more damaging. “Whatever you want, my King.”

He hisses in a breath, sounding shocked. I smile a little and take him by the hand and we walk very slowly to where my family stands by the fountain. They rise, except for Audet, who sits crouched over her knees, looking so very small and scared in a way I’ve never seen her.

“I’m so sorry, Kia,” she sniffs as she takes my free hand. “I never thought you would get hurt when I suggested you leave the keep…”

“It’s alright…”

“And I’m sorry for how I’ve treated you. I…I’ll do better. And not just because you’ll be Lord Yaron’s Lady. I just…I’ve always envied you.”

“Envied me?” I say, feeling surprised by this revelation whispered by blubbering lips that are full and perfectly formed, just like the rest of my sister. She’s always been the beautiful one.

“You are always so happy. I just…never felt…never understood how. It was like you knew something — had something — I didn’t. I guess you always did. And now you definitely do. But I don’t…I’m just…I’ll work on it. I’m sorry, Kandia. I hope you know I do love you.”

I bend down, not releasing Yaron’s hand for a moment, even as I wrap my arms around Audet’s hunched shoulders. Against her pretty rush of curls, I tell her, “I will love you forever. No matter what. You’re my sister.”

---